


Proving Love is Real

by exandriantrashpanda (topothesia)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 12:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20835377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topothesia/pseuds/exandriantrashpanda
Summary: What really happened to that lost episode of All Work No Play.





	Proving Love is Real

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Critical Kink meme. Thanks, prompter! The title of this is from "Proving Love Is Real" by Caged Animals, aka the theme to Dr. Chuck Tingle's podcast.

“We may have drunk too much during that recording,” Sam says to Liam after he -- hopefully -- hits the stop button on the recording software. “I’m not sure if I remember anything I said. Or you said. But I think we might have said too much. Maybe we shouldn’t release this one.”

“Oh no, our fans in Malaysia will be so disappointed,” Liam says, giggling softly. “Besides I think everyone who wants to hear from us is just watching Critical Role anyways. This can be our lost episode.”

“Ooh, people writing our biographies when we’re famous will search desperately for it,” Sam says, standing up and wobbling a little. “Ugh. It’s too close in here. And too warm. I need a bigger home studio.”

Liam stands up and also sways, bumping against Sam, who giggles and slings an arm around his waist. “You should sleep over. You’re in no shape to drive.”

“But…” Liam protests.

“At least crash for a few hours,” Sam says.

“Only if you sleep with me,” Liam says. 

“Oh, fine, if you insist,” Sam says, and gestures exaggeratedly for Liam to precede him out of the studio. 

“I mean it, Sammy,” Liam says after he and Sam have made it into the guest bedroom. He flops down onto the bed on his back before rolling onto his side and gesturing for Sam to come join him. “I want you in bed with me,” he says, pitching his voice into something that’s supposed to sound low and seductive but instead causes both of them to crack up laughing. 

“That was some really terrible vocal work,” Sam says. 

“C’mere and give me notes then, Mister Hotshot Voice Director,” Liam says, making grabby hand gestures.

“Oh, fine,” Sam says, flopping onto the bed next to Liam. “There. Happy now?”

“We have to get under the covers,” Liam says, tugging the blankets up over them. “There. Now it’s perfect.” He rolls so that he’s closer to Sam, both of them now lying on their sides facing each other, and slings an arm around Sam’s waist.

Sam half turns to turn off the bedside light. “There,” he says as he settles back down, kissing Liam on the cheek before he puts his head on the pillow.

It goes quiet for a while, the only noises muted traffic outside the windows and the sound of their breathing. Sam thinks that Liam’s fallen asleep until Liam speaks again, his voice calmer and clearer than before: “Did you mean what you said earlier, when we were recording?”

“About Malaysia? About Laura? About your ongoing man crush on Harrison Ford?” Sam asks, his tone playful, even though he knows damn well what Liam’s asking about. 

“You know what I meant,” Liam says, his voice quiet and sincere. “But… nevermind. We can talk about it later.” Or not talk about it at all, he thinks. He rolls onto his other side, facing away from Sam. 

“No, don’t,” Sam says moving to close the distance between them, curling his arm around Liam now. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Liam says. “I know we joke about it, but sometimes I wonder…” and he squirms uncomfortably in Sam’s hold, tossing Sam’s arm off of him, as if having Sam near is too much. 

“I can go,” Sam offers. 

“No, don’t,” Liam says.

“Sometimes you wonder what?” Sam asks. 

“Do you really love me?” Liam asks.

“You know I love you,” Sam says quickly, almost too glibly. 

“Not like -- I mean, yes, I know you love me like a best friend, of course you do,” Liam says. He sighs. “I mean do you like-like me? Do you love-love me?”

“I haven’t heard someone say ‘like like you’ since middle school,” Sam says. 

“Well, there’s my answer,” Liam says, inching a little farther away on the bed.

“You’re going to fall off the edge if you keep moving,” Sam says. “Come back here and let’s actually talk about this, okay?”

“Fine,” Liam says, in the tone of voice that anyone and everyone knows means that everything is not fine, and he shifts back a fraction of an inch. “Talk.”

Sam sighs. “I don’t know how to say this,” he says. 

“It’s okay,” Liam says. “I didn’t think you did.”

“Didn’t what?” Sam says. “Like you? Love you?”

“This feels like a production of _Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead,_” Liam says. “We can do you like and love without the rhetoric, but not like and love without the blood. They’re all blood, you see.” He giggles at his own mangling of the line. 

“Now who’s deflecting?” Sam asks, poking Liam in the back.

“Ow,” Liam says. 

“I do love you,” Sam says, the words tumbling quickly out of his mouth, like if he doesn’t say them fast, he won’t be able to say them at all. “In the love love you way. The in love way. But I know you don’t, so -- ”

“Wait,” Liam says, cutting Sam off, turning over and rolling back so that he’s right next to Sam. “You do?”

“I just said I did!” Sam protests, but whatever he’s going to say next is cut off by Liam taking Sam’s face in his hands and kissing him softly. 

“What was that for?” Sam asks, albeit a little breathlessly. 

“Because I love you,” Liam says. 

“Oh,” Sam says. “Wait. You love-love me? Too?”

“Of course I do,” Liam says, in an “isn’t it obvious?” sort of tone. 

This time it’s Sam who kisses Liam, softly at first, but then more urgently as they both wrap their arms around each other, pulling each other as close as possible. 

“You’re crying,” Sam says when they finally stop kissing for a minute and he belatedly realizes that Liam’s face is wet. “Did I do something wrong?” He traces the path of a tear down Liam’s face with his thumb. 

“No, you did something right, but you know I cry all the damn time,” Liam says. 

“My sentimental husband,” Sam says, resting his forehead against Liam’s. “Who I love.”

“Say it again,” Liam says.

“I love you,” Sam says. “Not wisely, but too well. There. I can do Shakespeare too, you know.”

“You just quoted _Othello,_” Liam says. “What are you trying to imply about our love?”

“Are we seriously going to discuss revenge tragedy right now?” Sam asks. “Because I quite enjoyed the kissing and I’d like to return to it if possible.”

“I love you too,” Liam says. “No literary references needed.” He initiates another kiss, and this one goes on for quite some time, and which leads to more tears, more occasionally incoherent but completely heartfelt declarations of love, and the removal of a good deal more clothing.

“Well. This is not at all how I expected this evening to end,” Sam says later, both of them drowsily curled around each other again, Liam’s head resting on Sam’s chest.

“Me either,” Liam says. “This is -- this changes a lot of things.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Sam says. “But I know what you mean.”

“We’ll talk about them in the morning?” Liam asks. 

“Yeah. Go to sleep,” Sam says. “Beloved,” he says a moment later, as if he’s trying out how that word sounds when applied to Liam.

“You too,” Liam says sleepily. “Beloved.”


End file.
